


Claire's Not a Fetch

by writtenthroughtime



Category: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M, Outlander - Freeform, Prompt Fic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-05 23:23:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5394077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writtenthroughtime/pseuds/writtenthroughtime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from my blog: Could u do a fic of Claire going back in time earlier than she originally does after she goes back to the future at the end of dragonfly in amber and actually interrupting Jamie and Laoghaires wedding? What would Jamie reaction be?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Claire's Not a Fetch

Maybe grabbing Bree was the wrong thing to do. She had a life ahead of her there, a father-like figure, college—even if she was making a choice I didn’t agree with— to become a historian, friends, potential boyfriends, but none of them added up to her family. She thinks we’re just going on a vacation, I’ve only told her we were headed to Scotland, nothing more nothing less. I do hope she will forgive me for what I am about to do.  
“Why Scotland, mamma? Daddy said you hate Scotland.”   
“I don’t hate Scotland darling. I have very painful memories from here, but some absolutely lovely ones as well.” A small wistful smile bloomed on my face thinking of the days with Jamie before the war.   
“If it’s so painful for you, why come back? I’d want to avoid somewhere that causes me pain.”  
Parking the car I turned to face Bree, touching her cheek I smiled lovingly at her, “Because some of the best things happened to me here, you for one.”  
Reaching for the basket and the Fraser Tartan blanket and faced the hill, it was now or never the stones would wait for no one on the days of fire feasts.   
Walking up the hill to Craig na Dun, flashbacks of the last time I was here flooded my mind. Jamie telling me to leave, the rough passionate sex before ripping my soul to tatters, and the all-consuming pain of traveling a second time. We set up our picnic just outside the megalithic circle.   
“This place is beautiful, yet eerie. What do you think the stones were used for? Would daddy know?” Bree’s inquisitive mind was going a mile a minute, drinking in every detail of the circle and trying to puzzle out it’s secrets. One secret, even her most creative dream, could not conjure up.   
“It is. Your fa- Frank and I once saw a coven of druids perform a dance here. Come to think of it, it was on this day all those years ago we saw the druids dance. It was hauntingly beautiful chill bump inducing ritual that happened as the sun was rising.” I could see them dancing, Mrs. Graham leading the dancers in a fluidity of intricate moves.   
“There’s something I need to tell you. Something Frank has been trying to deny since before you were born.”  
Brianna set down the apple she was about to bite and looked at me, engrossed in what I had to say next.   
“In May of 1945 I came up on this hill to find a plant, forget-me-nots, that grew just over there. While picking a specimen to take home and study, I heard a buzzing like a thousand angry bees, or a cacophony of angry screams blending together into a horrible buzz, coming from the cleft in the center stone.”  
Brianna’s face paled “You—you can hear it too?”  
Laying my hand on hers I tried to reassure her, “Yes, darling. I can. Only special people can hear it. Some say it’s the blood of the Old Folk, the Fae that can hear it, others say it’s impossible. What I believe it to be is genetic, a tiny mutation formed hundreds of years ago that allow certain people, on certain days an ability from which fables are written. We have that ability. Who passed it on to us, I cannot say, but there are more than just us. Two-hundred years, it’s always two-hundred years in the Hieland ledgeds, that’s the jump we can make.”  
Brianna pulled her hand away from mine, “What are you saying mamma? That we’re some kind of time travelers like from Doctor Who?” I shuddered out a laugh, “Yes and no. We don’t go around in flying blue police box, but we can travel at least two-hundred and two years back. That’s what happened to me the first time I came here. I touched the stones, not only to find the source of the buzzing, but because it felt as though I were compelled to do so. Entranced by the horrific sounds coming from the stone. Even now it’s hard for me to not touch…”  
“Then why did you bring me here? To see if I had this, this… Ability?”  
Shaking my head I looked at her beseechingly, “No, I already believed you could, you made the travel once too.”  
“No I didn’t! I was born here, in 1948. You should know!”  
“True you were born in 1948, but you were conceived in 1746. Your father, his name is James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser, and he lived during the 1700s in Scotland. For three years I lived, loved, and worked with him. Culloden changed everything. He knew about you before I did, sent me back to protect you.”  
“How do you expect me to believe all of this? If the Culloden you are referring to is the Battle of Culloden, April 16, 1746 and he was a Scot, didn’t he die in this battle?”  
“He expected to and no doubt tried and failed to do just that. I found record of him, at least I believe it’s him in a prison from 1753-1757 and then at a place in England from 1757-1764, don’t you see he has to have gone home from there.”  
Producing the documents I found and borrowed from Frank’s office, I handed them to Brianna. Not only was it a J. MacKenzie Fraser prison records, or the Alex. Mac. indentured servant papers, but my wedding certificate and the deed to Lallybroch we both signed over to young Jamie.   
Bree’s hand traced over my faded signature.   
“Mamma, this is your writing.” Nodding I looked at her face trying to find something to tell me what she was thinking, but was not successful—Fraser features through and through.   
“I’ve seen these before. In daddy’s study, he always tried to hide them from me. He left to get tea one day and I grabbed them before he got back. I thought it was interesting and beautiful to find your name on the page. As though it was an ancestor or something. I was wrong, it was you. You really went back?”  
Tears streamed down my cheeks as I nodded, “I did and I miss your father more than I can tell you. You look just like him; early on there were days it ached to even look at you for the memories it caused, but I never loved you less, only more with each passing moment.”  
Clutching her hands to my chest was my lifeline to the present, to 1966. “I brought you here because I intend to go back. I want you to come with me.”  
“I—I—I can’t. Daddy is here, we have a life here! Mamma you can’t leave me, leave us!”  
Sighing, I was afraid it would come to this. I handed Bree the parcel I hid at the bottom of the basket. “This is yours. It’ll be a little awkward to put on at first but it’ll get easier if you change your mind. The stones only work on fire feasts from what I understand—today being Beltane is one of the days we can travel. I’m going to a place called Lallybroch. It’s still around today, just abandoned. This is your father’s family home, your family home. The only way I know how to direct the jump is to think of who you are trying to get to. Think of me, my darling daughter, when you decide to come. Also, your father would want you to have these.” I placed the first gift Jamie ever bestowed upon me around our daughter’s neck.   
“They are Scotch pearls, and your grandmother’s. Your father gave them to me on our wedding night. If you want to take them to an antiques shop and have them confirm the date of origin go ahead, but please don’t sell them. They are very precious to me and I want them to belong to you.”  
Speechless, Brianna fingered the pearls. While she was distracted I grabbed my own garment parcel, placed the left over food into the basket and stood up. Seeing me stand Brianna stood, noticing the almost full basket and folded the blanket for me.   
“I love you Brianna Ellen Fraser.” I kissed her cheek and turned for the stones.   
“Wait! Mamma! WAIT!” Her face blurry from tears as I tried to compose myself.  
“You’re just going to leave me here, alone?”  
“Oh baby, I don’t wish to do so. I want you to come with me, if you will not then I must go. I’ve waited too long to turn back now.”  
“I love you mamma.” Bree’s broken whisper cracked my heart. I ran to her held her tight to me enjoying the feel of her before whispering I love you again to her.   
Letting go I turned for the stones and thought of Jamie. As my right hand began to graze the stone, a warmth engulfed my left. 

The pain was even worse the third time, but this time I wasn’t alone. Bree lay sprawled next to me in the grass before the center stone. She came. My heart swelled, I didn’t have to leave her.   
“Can you stand?” I asked.   
“Argh. That was awful mamma, and you’ve done this three times now. I never want to do that again!”  
Chuckling I helped her to her feet, noticing she not only brought her own parcel, but the basket as well. “Come on, let’s get dressed.”  
Helping Bree into her 1700s gown felt like something out of a dream, a dream I never thought would come true. Her viking features and striking red hair flowed seamlessly with the outfit she now wore. A girl belonging to two different times.   
“There, now I feel like I can breath again.”  
“You must be joking.” Brianna deadpanned. The corset does take some getting use to, but I feel more comfortable now than I ever did.   
“Come on darling, your father is waiting for us and it won’t be too easy getting to him.”  
We managed to find a carriage that was going in the direction of the Fraser lands, once at the border near the mountain pass, we would be on foot. My surroundings were familiar with slight alterations that only comes with time— a new sapling here, wildflowers there, but welcome new sights.   
“I’ll never call you crazy again, mamma. It’s real, all of this.. we’re in the past.” She whispered in awe as we jolted down the road. Smiling, I simply nodded, basking in the feeling of the pale Scottish light.  
Tartan in this day would be banned and the bright red Fraser plaid blanket would not be a welcome sight if we ran into any English on the road. Bree sensing what I was, grabbed the brown paper our clothes had been wrapped in and tucked it all around the blanket creating a new parcel that concealed where our loyalties lie.   
“Here we are Mistress Fraser, edge o’ the Fraser lands. Ye sure ye’ll be fine on foot?”  
“Thank-you sir, yes we shall be fine. My husband is waiting for us and we have family not far from here. Again thank-you for your kindness to us.”  
“Husband ye say? Well, that’s a shame, anyway ye are most welcome. Good day to ye and to ye lass.”  
Dipping our heads in farewell Brianna and I started down the pass that I knew would lead to Lallybroch.

 

The white, three-story farm home was just visible from the hill we stood on. Home. Seeing the smoke rising from the smokestacks filled me with incomprehensible elation.   
“What if they don’t like me?” Bree asked in a small voice.  
“They will love you. You are their family, and one look at you and they’ll know who you come from! So will you, the moment you see him.” I grabbed her hand and squeezed in reassurance. “We’ll be there by midday it seems.”  
“That’s a relief. After two days on that rickety wagon he called a chariot I’ll gladly take a few more hours of walking! Will you tell me about them? Well what you remember anyway or what you’ve found. I don’t want it to seem like you never told me of them before.”  
“Of course darling. Who would you like me to start with your father, your aunt and uncle, or your cousins?”   
The final two hour walk to Lallybroch was filled with Bree’s questions and my tales of the time I was here before.   
The dooryard was full of laughter and commotion. I hadn’t seen this many people at Lallybroch since that first quarter day celebration when Jamie and I were first wed. I walked to the door I had dreamt of so many times and reached for the handle when Bree stopped me.   
“Mamma, you can’t just open this door to someone’s house!”  
“Watch me.” I smirked at her and opened the door. Instantly overwhelmed with the sights and smells of long lost memories. A small boy ran by with a squeal of laughter and girl close behind chasing after him. I smiled, loving the sights and sounds of my home. A girl, slightly older than Brianna walked down the stairs as we turned the corner.   
“Can I help ye? Ye must be here for the wedding this afternoon right?”  
“I’m sorry, a wedding? Whose might I ask?”  
“Oh sorry, I just figured—nevermind. My uncle Jamie is getting married to Miss MacKenzie. Since ye are already here please join us for the festivities…?” She left an awkward silence in question of our names. “Claire, Claire Fraser and this is my daughter Brianna. Please, tell me is by chance, your name Maggie Murray?”  
The girl paled, “MAM!! Ye need to get in here!” My heart began to race. Why is Jamie getting married? Obviously he moved on and to a MacKenzie, could they be related to the MacKenzie of Leoch? My mind continued to race with questions, situations, and ultimately reasons why this was the worst idea I’ve ever had and I drug Bree into this mess.   
“Aye, my name is Maggie Murray. If ye are who ye say ye are, then ye are my aunt?”  
Smiling, “I am. It’s so wonderful to see you again. You were just a babe the last time we met I’m afraid.”  
Before Maggie had a chance to respond, Jenny Fraser Murray swept into the room like a hurricane.   
“What is it mo chridhe? I have to get yer uncle ready! He’s being stubborn as a rock about this whole thing. Doesna he realize I only wan— why are ye nodding yer head?”  
“Mam, may I introduce ye to Claire and Brianna Fraser.” Maggie said motioning to where we stood.  
Jenny’s face went white and slack with shock. Her knees gave way so quick Maggie, Bree and I didn’t have time to catch her.   
“Maggie, if you would, please get me a clean cloth and so cold water and perhaps something with sugar in it? Fresh fruit or a cake?”  
Nodding she ran off to the kitchen to retrieve what I requested.  
“Put your head between your knees looking down and breathe deeply and evenly. That’s it. Good.” Maggie returned handing me the cloth and a small tart. “Thank-you Maggie. Here Jenny, eat this.” I handed her the tart and placed the cold cloth methodically from forehead, side of face, to neck then repeat. Caring for a patient was a role I could easily slip back into even in the 1760s.   
“Dear God, ye are no’ a fetch are ye?”  
“I’m quite real, Jenny, as is my daughter.”  
“No denying who her faither is, is there?” Smiling and chuckling I had to agree, “No there isn’t.”   
If possible, Jenny’s face just as it was gaining a modicum of color back drained even paler than before.  
“Jamie doesna ken ye are here. It’s all my fault this shamble of a wedding. I have to stop it, we have to stop it. Ye can stop it in an instance, the moment he lays eyes on ye, he would no go through wi’ it!”  
“Where is Jamie?”  
Jenny snorted, “The Laird’s bedroom. I’m sure ye remember the way? Go to him, though ye might no want to bring the lass just yet. Let him see ye first then bring her in.”  
“But-”  
“Dinna worry about me, sister. Go stop my brother from making a mistake, Maggie will help me from here.” Placing my hand on her arm in a, ‘are you sure’ gesture, she nodded and released me from my obligation to her. Grabbing Bree’s hand I lead her up the stairs to the bedroom I once shared with Jamie.  
“Please wait out here. I don’t know how long this might take, I will yell for you when it’s time for you to make your entrance. If you need further proof that this is your family, walk down the hall a bit and look for a portrait of a red headed lady; it’s your grandmother, Ellen.” Bree weakly smiled back at me and nodded.   
Pushing the door open, I found Jamie slumped over in the chair by the window, head in his hands and a bottle of alcohol by his feet.   
“Go away Jenny! I told ye I dinna wish to be bothered. I said I do it and I’m a man o’ my word. Just go.”  
“It’s not, Jenny. It’s me, Claire.”  
Looking up, Jamie’s face was haggard looking, but a smile broke through the pain. He looked mostly the same, auburn and copper hair tied back, strong viking features and muscular body lithe and agile still. Walking over to where he sat, I kneeled and placed a hand on his thigh. He flinched.   
“How did you break your nose?” I frowned and gently touched the the white line of the break.  
“Ye are real.” He managed to gasp out before his eyes rolled back in his head and he fell over in the chair in a faint. Lifting his head off his shoulder I stroked the soft locks and let tears fall down my face. He’s real.  
“That bad is it?” I repeated to him when I saw his blue eyes flutter open.   
“No, Sassenach. Not that bad.” His hands went to my face, turning me to face him more fully.   
“I’ve seen ye so many times these last eighteen years in my dreams, when I coulda sworn I was dying, and when I needed ye the most. I never thought I’d be able to speak to ye again, or touch ye. Oh God, Claire, I canna tell ye how much I’ve missed you.”  
“About the same as how much I have missed you.” I rested my forehead to his and asked the question that had been forming a pit of dread in my stomach since Maggie said wedding.  
“Are we still married, Jamie, or would you rather marry Miss MacKenzie?” What I cowardly didn’t asked was ‘have you moved on and stopped loving me?’ Too afraid of what the answer might be.   
“I—Yes. I believe we are still married. Neither one of us is dead.”  
“So you don’t want to marry Miss MacKenzie?”  
Jamie scoffed with that guttural Scottish noise I had missed, “Want to marry Laoghaire? I would rather ye cut my heart out now, Sassenach. I didna wish to marry her, but you know Jenny when she sets her mind to something. She was worried about me being lonely. I havena been the same wi’out you, mo nighean donn. I couldna truly smile or enjoy what was going on around me. My soul was missing. Now, thanks to you, I have found it again.” He leaned in and hesitantly kissed me, testing the waters, unsure if I would reciprocate. Grabbing his face between my hands I deepened the kiss.   
Pulling away I had just realized something, “Did you say marry Laoghaire? As in Laoghaire MacKenzie, the spoiled brat who tried to have me brunt at the stake and completely infatuated with you, Laoghaire MacKenzie?”  
Jamie’s eyes grew wide, “Tried to have you burnt? Cranesmuir, the witch trials, that was her fault?”  
“Well, I wouldn’t credit her with the entire trial, but my involvement in it, yes. She wanted you for her own, so she tried to have me executed and out of the way. After all that she’s done, you were going to marry her?”  
A darkness crossed over Jamie’s face, “I swear to ye, mo nighean donn, I didna ken she had any part of the trial. Do ye really think I’d purposefully marry someone who harmed ye? Christ, Claire! I love ye more than I love myself! Why would I dishonor your name, your memory like that?”   
“I don’t know. Please, don’t go through with today.”  
“I promise ye now, mo nighean donn, I willna marry her for one main reason. I’m already bound by the Grace of God to you and I’ll no be changing that.”  
“Good.” Pulling him to me, I kissed him with everything in me. The years of wanting, longing, and unrequited love vanished the moment my lips touched his.   
“I want ye so much, mo nighean donn.”  
“I want you too, but not yet.”  
A pout crossed his face reminding me of the boy I had married instead of the man whose lap I now perched on. “Do you want to meet your daughter?”  
“Daughter? The bairn, it was a girl?” Nodding I smiled and felt tears well up seeing the onslaught of emotions overtake Jamie.   
“Yes.” He barely managed to croak out between his tears.   
“Brianna, darling, you can come in now.”  
The door slowly creaked open, Brianna easing her way into the room not taking her eyes off the floor. I felt Jamie’s breath hitch.   
“Please.” Was all Jamie had to say to get her to look up. Looking from Jamie to Brianna I took that as my cue to introduce them. Standing I took Jamie’s hand and pulled him over to where our daughter stood.   
“Jamie, this is your daughter, Brianna Ellen Fraser.” Bree flinched at the last name change just as she had done by the stones a few days before.   
With a shaking hand, Jamie reached out to Brianna and clasped it on her shoulder. Tears flowed even freer down his cheeks, Gaelic sentences poured from him in a reverent whisper.   
“Hello.” Brianna whispered to Jamie.  
“Da, please, call me da. Christ, Claire, she’s so beautiful and perfect!” He spoke and looked upon her like a parent first seeing their infant child. To him, Bree was just as new and awe inspiring. I smiled thinking of the gifts I had tucked away for him later.   
“She is and always has been. You should have seen her the day she was born all red and angry bright red hair from the start and those blue eyes that only became bluer.” My own set of tears were making their tracks down my face.   
“I- I don’t know what to say, da.”  
“Ye don’t have to say anything, mo nighean ruiadh.” The quizzical mind was whirling again, “What does that mean?”  
“My red haired lass.” She smiled and looked to me for guidance. I shrugged and smiled back, still anchoring myself with Jamie’s hand I still held.   
“JAMIE! Jamie Fraser where are ye?” A shrill voice interrupted the moment. Laoghaire.   
“Is that the woman you are to marry, da?”  
Jamie scowled, “No. I’m to marry no one. Yer mam, is already my wife and all I need.”  
“Well that’s good to know, but you might want to tell her that.” Bree said as she pointed towards the direction of the shrill noise.  
Wincing as yet another shriek accompanied by pounding footsteps could be heard. The door to the Laird’s room burst open with a reverberating thump against the wall. Laoghaire stood before us. Her hair was the same beautiful cornsilk gold, but her face showed more years than she had lived through. As she took in the sight of the three of us, Jamie and I hand-in-hand, Bree standing beside Jamie, tall, proud and a female version of her father, Laoghaire’s face began to grow steadily redder.   
“Witch! I ken ye werena dead like they all believed, but how I wished it were true! Stealing my man from me again, and on my weddin’ day of all days.” She scoffed. Brianna’s face, surprisingly got redder and her fists clenched at her sides.   
“Mamma, is this the woman you told me about, the one who tried to have you killed?”  
All I had to do was nod. Bree lunged at Laoghaire and was stopped by a hand on her arm. Her father gripped her forearm and pulled her back and to his side, anchoring himself to both of us.   
“Is it true?”  
She feigned ignorance and flipped her hair while her jaw set for a fight.   
“Is it true ye tried to have Claire killed in Cranesmuir?”  
“Perhaps I did, what of it. It clearly didna work and the belief she was dead isna true either now is it? I am not the one who played dirty, you were going to marry me while still married to this.. this whore of a witch!”  
“That is enough out of you Laoghaire! I was going to marry ye out of pity and obligation to my sister, nothing more. Dinna mistake this would be act as an act of love. I believed my wife,” Laoghaire flinched, “Yes, my WIFE to be dead for eighteen years. Do ye have any idea what that would feel like? To have yer soul ripped apart and trampled on for eighteen grueling years believing it’s match was dead? Claire showed up here as a surprise to us all, but no and unpleasant one!”  
“How did she come back?”  
“I received word he survived Culloden years after the fact. Only recently, to be frank. Bree do show this would be murderess the documents.” Jamie’s face wiped from me to Brianna as she handed Laoghaire the prison and indentured servant forms.   
“How?”   
“We’ll explain later.” I whispered to him.  
“A friend of mine couriered these to me not two months back, we have been living in the colonies you see. Not that it is any of your business, but after Culloden when I could not find my husband and believed him to be dead, I was hunted by English soldiers— my face was popular and known around the Jacobites and their supporters, even the non-supporters knew I was the wife of Red Jamie. I fled to the colonies where I would be safe, and free to raise my daughter without the fear of being hanged at every turn. As you can see, the moment we received these documents we found passage to Scotland and made our way here, to our rightful home.”  
Laoghaire looked as if she had been slapped.   
“What of the girls! Jamie you promised you’d look after them!”  
It was my turn to arch an eyebrow at my husband, what girls?  
“Ye ken your daughters are no mine, if they need a father figure they are welcome to come to me, but I’ll no be their sole provider. Out of kindness and honor I’ll watch after them and help when I can, but I’ll no be dragged into your affairs and the running of your home.”  
Tears welled up in Laoghaire’s eyes as she threw herself into a tantrum a toddler in the terrible two’s would be jealous of. In the midst of the tantrum Jenny, Ian, Fergus, and Maggie found us. Jamie looked at Ian and Fergus and motioned discreetly to Laoghaire, in silent understanding the two crippled—oh Fergus, my poor boy what happened to your hand— managed to pick Laoghaire up and carry her from the room, her screams echoing off the walls as they went.   
“Brother I am so sorry, if I would have kent th-”  
Jamie silenced her with a look, “It’s no your fault, Jenny. I didna ken either, but it’s over now and stopped before something we all would have regretted took place.”  
Smiling and looking up at Jamie to find an equally as bright smile, tears forming again in his eyes, and his arms tight around myself and his daughter, I knew I made the right choice.


End file.
